Switched
by Icyz11
Summary: Cats with multiple lovers but had to choose one. This is SWITCHED!
1. Flight Of The Ash

Sunlight poured through the walls of the warriors den and a dark ginger she-cat yawned. She padded out of the warriors den and sat down. Her dark ginger fur shone in the sunlight. A pale gray tom with darker flecks walked over to her and sat beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

Squirrelflight glared at him. "Why are you always so overprotective of me?" she spat.

Ashfur flinched. "I-I just want to make sure y-your okay," he stammered.

"Well I am," Squirrelflight growled. She lashed her tail once, and walked away.

A dark brown tabby tom approached her and Squirrelflight saw Ashfur glare at him. "Hi Squirrelflight," he meowed.

"Hi Brambleclaw," Squirrelflight replied.

"What's wrong?" Brambleclaw unsheathed his claws.

"Nothing," Squirrelflight lied. She stared deep into Brambleclaw's amber eyes. Oh how she loved him, but he was the son of Tigerstar and Squirrelflight remembered all those times the murderous tabby had tried to kill Firestar, her father.

 _But he's different_ a tiny voice spoke inside of her. She shook her head. She was not going to choose Brambleclaw. Ashfur cared about her and was a lot more protective than Brambleclaw.

Squirrelflight turned around and walked back to Ashfur.

"Wait! Squirrelflight! Where are you going?" Brambleclaw's voice sounded behind her.

"I'm going to tell Ashfur something," Squirrelflight called back.

"What is it?"

"None of your business!" Squirrelflight snapped.

When she reached Ashfur, she saw that the pale gray tom's muzzle brushed against the ground and his tail was tucked above his head. When he saw her, his dark blue eyes lit up.

"What is it, Squirrelflight?" he asked. Ashfur stood back up and tucked his tail over his paws.

"I'm sorry," Squirrelflight began. "And I want to tell you that I love you. You mean a lot to me and-and Brambleclaw does too but..." Her voice trailed off.

"He's the son of Tigerstar?" Ashfur guessed.

Squirrelflight nodded. "Partly because of that. But also because I think that me and you would make a better couple than me and Brambleclaw. You're kind to me and caring. I love you because of that."

Ashfur's breath caught in his throat. The three words that he had never imagined Squirrelflight would say, were spoken just this moment. They foamed out of her mouth like bubbles, sweet and nice.

"I love you too!" Ashfur cried. He twined his tail with Squirrelflight's. "Will you be my mate?"

Squirrelflight hesitated. "Alright," she finally said.

ooo

"Owww," Squirrelflight moaned. Her stomach was swollen with unborn kits and her mate, Ashfur was standing next to her, licking her ear. Her sister, Leafpool was gathering some herbs. The light brown tabby she-cat hurried into the nursery with some herbs clutched in her jaws.

"Eat some borage," Leafpool meowed. "It produces more and better milk." She set the hairy leaves in front of Squirrelflight and the dark ginger she-cat bent down and chewed up the leaves, wincing at the taste.

Suddenly, Squirrelflight yowled with pain. A spasm twitched through her body.

"It's all right," Ashfur soothed. "Our kits will be great-clever and beautiful like you." He stroked Squirrelflight's fur with his tail. Leafpool grabbed a stick and handed it to her. She bit down on the stick and a large spasm convulsed through her body as a dark ginger she-kit slithered out into the nest. The next kit-a blue-gray she-kit with a bushy tail slithered out next. The last kit was a light brown she-kit with ginger paws. The stick splintered to pieces as the last kit came out and Squirrelflight licked them. They mewled and sucked on the milk that Squirrelflight had produced.

"What are we going to name them?" Squirrelflight whispered.

"How about Gingerkit for the dark ginger one?" Ashfur suggested.

Squirrelflight nodded. "And Poppykit for the light brown one and Mistykit for the blue-gray one?"

"Yes," Ashfur agreed. He purred. "They are perfect."

ooo

Brambleclaw glared at Squirrelflight and Ashfur, who were sitting together with their tails twined. Their three kits, Gingerkit, Poppykit, and Mistykit were playing moss ball.

"I'll be the attacker!" Mistykit squeaked.

"Then I'll be the defender!" Gingerkit mewed.

"I'll say '3-2-1!'" Poppykit said. She ran over to the entrance of the nursery.

"3-2-1!"

Mistykit ran over to the moss ball and rolled it quickly toward the nursery. Gingerkit swiped at the ball with her paws and missed. Mistykit rolled the ball into the entrance and sat down in triumph. "I won!"

Brambleclaw growled and headed back to the warriors den. He thought of Squirrelflight's dark ginger fur and her beautiful emerald green eyes. _I will have my revenge someday, Squirrelflight!_


	2. Endless Thunder

_(Star Flower's POV)_

 _"Where is your home?"_ The piercing amber eyes stared at her, both breathtaking and nerve-racking. She felt as if she could get lost in those lulling depths, so warm-hearted and kind. The laugh she felt bubbling in her throat when he couldn't take his eyes off her. Then she thought of One Eye, and his rage that would come with finding out she was with one of the group cats. She shook it off. _This is my own choice,_ she reminded herself.

"I'm not ready to tell you that yet," she meowed, flicking her tail across his flank, "but I'm sure I'll see you again." With that, plus her heart pounding, she whipped around and dived through the ferns. The long, lush fronds brushed against her golden tabby pelt as she hurried through, hoping Thunder hadn't caught up. She could hear him running after her, but she was a heartbeat quicker as she emerged out of the long grass.

Star Flower gasped as her green orbs fixed on the cat she least wanted to see.

One Eye was standing on the other side. His one malevolent yellow eye flashed, and he twitched his ears angrily. "What were you doing?" he snarled. "Padding after a moor cat. I wouldn't be surprised if you have their softness by now." He curled his lip with disgust, though he looked mildly pleased.

Star Flower met his gaze defiantly. "There was nothing wrong with that!" she snapped. "Especially that I've learned some valuable information about the moor cats that I would _love_ to share with you." Her heart twisted with guilt. Would Thunder forgive her? Perhaps not. Giving away such precious knowledge was like a betrayal. Thunder would definitely hate her after that, she was sure of it.

One Eye's yellow eye shone with greed. "What information?" he growled.

And so Star Flower told him everything he knew, as quickly as she could, and that was when he sent her to follow Thunder to their home and report to him where the moorland cats resided.

* * *

 _(Thunder's POV)_

"Star Flower!" Thunder exclaimed, delight scorching his pelt. He bounded toward her, as if drawn to her by an invisible magnet. The golden tabby flinched when she turned, and Thunder noted that her tail was twitching. Even her usually smooth fur was rippling along her spine.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, forgetting that he was supposed to hate her. It had been a long two moons since they had killed One Eye and he had joined Clear Sky's group. He often felt like moving out, but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. _Any day now,_ he promised. _Any day. I just can't leave yet, with Star Flower still here. She must hate it with Clear Sky... well, maybe not._ He couldn't bring himself to admit that his father had been a better cat to Star Flower than he had, and the gray tom had likely forgiven her.

 _Probably to prove he's different and he'll make wiser choices from now on,_ he thought with a frown. He had no idea why he still liked the gold-furred she-cat. _Go back to camp!_ he scolded himself. _Stop doing what he would've done a few moons ago. Everything's changed now!_

He stood awkwardly, studying Star Flower for a moment. The she-cat was depressed, he could tell, and she looked torn. "What's wrong?" he repeated, nosing her side. _Oh gosh, why did I JUST DO THAT?_ he hissed.

"Nothing, Thunder." Star Flower looked away, but not before he could see it clearly in her eyes. She was bonding with Clear Sky, but she still had a shred of herself left in him. _Uh-oh. Any word now and that'll probably tip her over to choosing Clear Sky._

"No, I can sense you have something to say. Tell me," he meowed firmly, curiosity pricking his paw pads. He could help solve this, if only she knew that he would forgive her and stop being a grumpy, unforgiving mouse-heart. _No cat trusted me because I am Clear Sky's son. I don't belong either. That's something to bond on, surely._

"Fine! Since you're bugging me so much, I am out of this decision! Clear Sky's group is obviously where my loyalty's at!"

"Wait... what?" Thunder had expected her to say she chose his father over him, or him over his father, whichever one. Not different groups. "What do you mean?" he sputtered.

"It's obvious you're going to move out and start your own group, Thunder!" Star Flower snorted. "You're a born leader, I've seen how you try to give Clear Sky advice on how to run his Clan."

Thunder was silent.

Utterly silent.

Until Star Flower spoke up, the petal shapes in her eyes casting an emerald glow.

"Thunder, I... I think I really truly understand you."

* * *

 _(3rd O)_

Star Flower writhed with pain, her body convulsing on the moss-strewn nest. Rows of heather were laid beneath to provide a strong bedding, but they had all been knocked off in her spasms. The she-cat's eyes were wild, her jaws opening every once in a while to let out a howl.

Thunder paced outside the den, his tail lashing. "Won't you let me in?" he demanded, claws clutching his heart at the sound of her yowling.

Milkweed, stationed outside the den, shook her head. "No can do, Thunder. I'm sorry, but the nursery's too crowded for more." Her tail was wrapped protectively around her two kits, Thistle and Clover. Their eyes were wide as they peeked through the brambles.

A long while passed, with the sun slowly sinking under the horizon and orange streaks coming to the clouds. Thunder continued to trot back and forth, his energy far from failing.

However, abruptly, Star Flower's shrieks faded, and Holly came out of the den.

"You can go in now," she mewed with a curt dip of her head.

Thunder rushed in with a sweep of air, his amber eyes frantically searching the den. Star Flower was curled up beside three squirming bundles of fur, to which he identified as tortoiseshell, brown-and-gold, and russet. Their jaws gaped open in little feeble wails as they pushed their noses into their mother's thick gold fur.

Thunder forced a purr from his throat, overwhelmed by an emotion he wasn't sure possible. "What are their names?" he asked.

Star Flower's next string of honeyed words warmed him all the way to his paws.

"I was thinking...Maple Dawn, Maroon Ember, and Glass Dust," Star Flower proclaimed, her green eyes pouring out happiness. Her tail flicked to each kit as she said their names.

"Those are perfect!" Thunder murmured, feeling choked in the throat. He coughed, but it wouldn't come out. He eventually stopped and fell away into silence, only the sight of their kits keeping him from tumbling to the ground.

"Thunder... are you okay?" Star Flower said quietly, her claws sliding in and out and kicking up earth. Her tone shifted to rich sympathy.

"Of course I am!" Thunder coughed out. "Why wouldn't I be?" His energy was taking his toll, and with that, his strength. His head began to loll; his eyes fluttering closed.

Star Flower's worried mews increased in volume until they faded away with everything else.

* * *

 _(Clear Sky's POV)_

Clear Sky sat stiffly, his paws tucked beneath him as to not clench them. His jaw worked endlessly as he glared at the three wriggling, squirming bundle of kits. A long, worthless, horrible moon had passed, and with that, his bright spirit. Star Flower was just the cat he needed to cheer him up and give him confidence, but that was now all gone.

All gone.

Star Flower, being the manipulating she-cat that she was, had went back to loving Thunder, and his son, being the fool he was, had showed the same feelings.

Sometimes he needed something to claw.

But that was the _thing._

Thunder was dead from his energy all used up: he had spent almost an entire day pacing endlessly. Hadn't ate for three days straight before that, as his worry was even greater than any meal. Apparently, it took the last slender branch of strength he possessed.

Clear Sky was devastated, along with the others, about his son's death. However, there was one truth ringing in his ears from dawn to dusk, and it was that Star Flower's three kits playing around were not _his._ They were his blood, yes, but they were not formally his children. His direct related.

And he had to stop thinking about how Star Flower was without a mate now, and how she was free without any tom standing beside her. Independent and carefree. Exactly how he'd knew her.

Auto-correct.

Exactly how he'd _known_ her.


	3. Cream 'n White

**Please please please request pairings! I will definitely get to doing them! Here are the reviews for these two chapters:**

 **Pikawarriorcat- Thank you thank you thank you!**

 **SkyTheLoner- Cool, Sky! I rather like the kits too :)**

 **SageandSky- Thanks, Skage! Again, I think the kits are cute too. Also, I have been working on realistic-ness :D**

 **Firesong the Chilly- Glad you liked it!**

 **Heavenly Survivor- Glad you liked it!**

 **Shadowedskies of LightningClan- YES I DO! xD**

 **Snowcrystal of ThunderClan- *backs away* Heh... heh.**

 **Thank you for all the reviews guys!**

* * *

 _"But I don't want to hurt you,"_ Daisy protested, her creamy white fur fluffed out with alarm. The very thought of tearing into flesh—cat flesh—made her sick. She and Cloudtail were training in some clearing out in the wide expanses of forest, which he had described in detail but she had not listened to much of.

Cloudtail made an amused sound of laughter, kind of like a snort, she thought. "Oh, you won't," he reassured her, his blue eyes sparkling lightly.

Daisy made her face twist into a soft, kittypet-like, shocked expression. "What if I do?" she mewed, adding dramatic edges to her voice. She stretched out one paw and rasped her tongue over it, its rough surface stroking the sleek hairs on her front leg.

Cloudtail sighed with extra exasperation. "Come _on_ ," he retorted, and Daisy could tell that he was struggling to keep his patience. She considered—for a slim, sliver of a moment—training properly, as to stop him from becoming rather annoying.

Keeping her soft tones, she inquired one last time, "Is this absolutely required of me? Why don't I just stay in the nursery and care for the other kits?"

"Yes," Cloudtail answered, seeming more impassive than impatient now. Then he added, "This is for your kits' safety, Daisy. If a badger were to attack the nursery, you—and your kits—would be left vulnerable.

Daisy cringed at the mention of her kits. Berrykit, Mousekit, and Hazelkit. She had not wanted to change their names to those of a Clan's, but she had known it was vital for securing their trust. To be like them. And besides, it would only get worse as her little kittens reached apprenticeship, as they would most certainly be teased by the others for having a loner name.

"Fine," Daisy said decisively, lifting her chin to meet Cloudtail's contrasting blue gaze. She could see relief settling beneath their shimmering depths, and felt, if not a small increase, of trust carry with it. She had earned it.

But then there was something else unidentifiable. Something nerve-racking crashing over her. Her pulse quickened, her heart raced. What was this uncomfortable feeling that intruded upon her thoughts?

She had yet to know.

* * *

"Cloudtail." The creepy white-and-ginger she-cat seemed to appear out of nowhere. Daisy flinched. She didn't like this she-cat, who frightened her kits and frightened her as well. She knew she was being unfair, but it was just a simple observation that came from being gifted sight.

Not much of a gift when you laid eyes on this she-cat. Brightheart was true to her name and appeared optimistic in every certain way, but there was a wave of doubt underneath her confident mask. If you didn't look closely, if you only paid attention to the way she held herself and her shining smile, you would probably miss it.

But Daisy knew what this doubt was concerned of. Thinking about it was as if claws had wrapped around her heart. She did not want to live in endless fear of the one-eyed she-cat that she had taken her place of. Whenever her mind came to this dilemma, her sharp white claws slid out and curved into the ground, tearing into the earth easily. Her tail whipped behind her with sorry, yet at the same time she felt the love simmering below the surface.

Love for Cloudtail.

Every day she spent with him, she knew it was right, knew it as a positive fact. She and the white warrior were meant for each other; it was literally written in the stars. True, she had had another mate—Smoky, but he was irrelevant to the situation. He was long gone now in the barn, perhaps giving in to the weight of his feelings for Floss.

"Cloudtail," Brightheart hissed sharply again, her one blue eye flickering impatiently. Her patched tail thumped the ground.

"Yes?" Cloudtail turned distractedly, his gaze clouded. But when his orbs met her's, there seemed to be a surge of hope that made his head jerk up and his muscles ripple beneath his snow-white pelt. He purred and gave her ears a gentle lick. "What is it, dear?"

Brightheart smiled with what you could call triumph. "We need to talk. I... I might be a bit overreacting, but I have to get this to you."

Cloudtail's grin fell. "All right," he said at last, shooting Daisy an apologetic glance. The cream-colored she-cat shook her head in response, her disappointment writhing through her fur as he watched the two of them trot to the other side of camp, beneath the hanging branches of a young willow.

* * *

Brightheart was angry. And jealous. After all the moons she and Cloudtail had been through together, it was impossible to rip it away now. Not now. Not when a pretty, absent-minded she-cat was here.

"Cloudtail, are you—?" Brightheart didn't need to finish the sentence to get to him the message.

Cloudtail's eyes went wild with surprise. "No! Of course not!" he cried, leaning forward to give her a nuzzle on the cheek. She backed away from him and let out a slow, time-consuming hiss. Her fur spiked along her spine; her ears were twitching. Her usually composed nature broke through, and she felt waves of feeling slamming into her muzzle and threatening to overwhelm her.

"Tell me," Brightheart urged. "Tell me the truth."

"I... I..."

"Tell me!" Brightheart demanded, rage coursing through her fur. She softened her gaze and whispered, "Please."

"I... don't know."

"Tell me!" Brightheart shouted, an accusing glare in her eyes.

"Please... I don't want to fight over this. I'm merely—"

"Tell me," Brightheart interrupted, repeating the two words in a soft murmur. "I need to know."

"Fine."

"What is it?" Brightheart edged closer, her ears pricking.

"...Daisy."

* * *

Their kits were just the most beautiful little figures in all of creation. There were two of them, and they both took after them. The first was named Streamkit, for her silver and white streaks that flowed through a gray pelt. When her eyes burst open, the first sight she saw was him. Then Daisy. Then her siblings squirming beside her.

And they were _blue._ The most lovely, curious blue that matched the color of the sky, rich and imposing yet adorable and kit-like as well.

The other bore a splotchy yellow-and-white pelt. He was the more mischievous one, and his actions had proved of that. Once, he had stolen the medicine cat's herbs and replaced it with crow-food. Another time, he had snuck mouse bile into the elders' prey, which made them sick for over two full sunrises.

He was called Palekit.

* * *

 _Palefang. Streamheart. Palefang. Streamheart._ Those two names she seemed to know even more than he own. The first time she'd laid her eyes on them, she'd despised them. Felt wave after wave of hatred. Then she'd felt sympathy. They had the soft, kittypet blood of Daisy running through their veins- it was undeniable.

Yet Cloudtail still loved them more than anything, and sometimes, she felt as if he loved them more than his other daughter, Whitewing.

* * *

The first time she'd laid her eyes on them, she'd loved them. Felt wave after wave of protection. Those were her half-siblings, her sisters and brothers for eternity. She had grown up with nobody as a playmate, though nowadays she had Birchfall. Sure, those kits had the blood of kittypet and loner, but they were all the same as the other young kits in the nursery.

 _I will protect them,_ she vowed. _Nothing will separate our bond. Nothing will ever frighten them._


	4. Reborn

**Please keep in mind that my sad stories are horrific, so the first part may be too. My creativity was stretched to its limits in this thing, heh.**

* * *

"No! Silverstream! Please...Silverstream...," Graystripe pleaded, his heart thumping erratically against his chest. He nuzzled her cheek desperately, her sweet, blossom-like scent wreathing around him as if it were smoke.

Her beautiful silver tabby pelt shifted as if she were about to stand up, but of course she wasn't. He avoided looking at the swirls of dark red blood around her, because it couldn't have happened, he didn't have this bad of luck, it was all a dream...

"Take care of our kits, Graystripe," she murmured, and he leaned in closer, clinging desperately onto the fading of her voice, so familiar, so strange, so not meant to be. She couldn't be saying this, that was what the dying character in the stories always said when they were being slayed heroically; of course, they never spoke of kits, but it was still similar...

He moaned with grief, his entire body rigid and then slumping against her own. Sobs wracked against him so much he felt the breath torn out of his throat.

"Please..." His voice no longer held meaning to it, just another empty, hollow background noise. He stared at her so long his eyes hurt, took in every perfection, every beauty, every dead limb.

He didn't even notice that Tigerclaw was watching, nor did he care by far. The whole world could watch without him caring, because the only thing he had eyes for was _her_. Graystripe didn't even want to recall her name, in case it brought up any more painful memories.

"Graystripe...," a soft, gentle meow rang amid all the gloom and fog. He didn't turn his head, didn't want to know who had dared spoken. _Brave and an idiot,_ he thought bitterly. _That one thing gets you dead._ He was tempted to attack the cat who had spoke, throw all his pain and anger into one hard blow, but he didn't let it get to him.

 _Take a deep breath. In, out. Soon, everything will be okay again. You'll wake up in your nest, and all of this will go back to normal._

"Your kits," the disembodied voice continued. "What will you name them?"

He hadn't even thought about kits, didn't want to know because those very things had made Silverstream die. He gritted his teeth, remembering how they used to meet by the river... her crystal-blue eyes sparkling with delight as she saw him...their gazes locking, the nervous tension in the air...

He felt a shred of his heart twitch with compassion, but just barely. Just barely.

"Graystripe," the voice repeated, more firmly this time. "What will you name them?" Someone else spoke in a gruff, deep, incredulous mew, but he ignored it, the blood roaring in his ears too hard to bear.

He touched his nose softly to her black-striped silver fur, her shut eyes in an almost peaceful, relaxed expression. His claws curled, and he drew back suddenly, not wanting to cause something.

 _She's dead._

 _She's dead, Graystripe._

 _You have nothing left waiting for you._

* * *

Little did he know how much he was wrong.

When he met the she-cat who looked eerily the same as Silverstream, his heart leaped. He almost thought she was back to life again, and that he had been mistaken the whole time, but of course not. All of that was hopeless wishing; StarClan would never allow cats back into the living world.

"Hi," the she-cat greeted as she neared him, her nose wrinkled at must have been his foul stench from six sunrises of no grooming. He flinched back, drawing in a sharp breath of her unnaturally sweet smell.

 _This is Silverstream..._

 _she's...just like Silverstream..._

"What's your name?" the pretty silver tabby asked conversationally. He jerked back from his daze, the world spinning before him.

"Oh, um, it's G-Graystripe," he stuttered, shutting his eyes. _I'm making a fool of myself over just another kittypet, this_ isn't _her, it can't be, it just can't, however much she may look like her... She's dead, Graystripe, she's dead. I remember burying her dead body, for StarClan's sake, why am I thinking this, then?_

"Nice to meet you, Graystripe," she purred, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that a major difference of her and Silverstream was that she had a jingling ruby collar. "I'm Millie," she introduced herself, dipping her head politely.

"Oh, uh... cool," he muttered awkwardly, not taking his eyes off his paws. "So, um, do you live here?"

"Yep," Millie replied. "Have lived here all my life."

"By any chance, have you ever encountered a silver tabby she-cat who looks just like you...by the name of Silverstream?" he persisted.

Millie squinted her eyes tight with concentration, but never quite closing them. She shifted her weight from paw to paw, tail flicking distractedly behind her. "I feel like I do...," she said slowly, "but that can't be... I don't know this Silverstream."

His heart gave another leap. "Where do you remember her?" he asked urgently. _Maybe Silverstream hasn't died, maybe it was all an illusion, oh, I can't wait for Feathertail and Stormfur to meet her!_ For once, he seemed to be feeling genuine happiness.

"In my mind...somewhere," Millie murmured. "So she was a warrior of-of RiverClan? Is that right?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, hopping on his paws. "What else?"

"That's all." Millie heaved a big sigh. "Must'a known her, that's fer sure. Wonder where, that must be the question, huh."

"Oh," he said, slightly disappointed. "So you don't really remember."

She shook her head, her entire body drooping. "I'm sorry. It seemed really important to you."

"No, no, that's all right," he said hurriedly, not wanting her to feel bad for such a little thing that wasn't even supposed to matter to this kittypet. "Really. Um, I'm lost, will you help me find my way out? You don't have to, I mean...," he added as he saw the doubtful look on her face, the slight twitch of her ears.

"You," she said suddenly, "Graystripe. Silverstream-Silverstream is me. Was me, I guess, but...I remember my journeying to StarClan, and all those odd memories I've been having—it's been me all along, Graystripe." Her face brightened. "And you must be Graystripe! Oh, I've thought all about you, I've missed you so much..."

He felt this entirely awkward to be talking to a totally different but still the same she-cat who had the same soul as Silverstream.

"So that must mean I've been reincarnated," Millie meowed, working it all out efficiently while he was still confused. "Graystripe, do you know what this means?" Her voice carried an air of excitement.

"That means we can finally be together- without breaking any code!"

* * *

He paced back and forth around the perimeter of the nursery, paws itching impatiently. What if the kitting went wrong? What if Millie- er, Silverstream- died a second time? Oh, it would be all his fault...

Finally, as the sky was darkening and he was losing hope, thinking that the medicine cat had left when he wasn't looking because the news was too depressing—

"Graystripe, come in here! Your kits, they're all right and okay! Come look, they're beautiful!" Leafpool called, popping her head out of the nursery. He stared at her, his mind numb. Wait, she was okay? She really was?

He dashed into the nursery at the speed of sound, almost knocking the medicine cat over in his hurry. Jayfeather was eyeing him with a grumpy face, but that was natural, he always did—

His heart stopped. Literally.

The sight of Millie curled around two beautiful kits was too much to bear. He raced over to her and lapped at her head, thinking the kitting must've been exhausting; both from the pain-struck wails and the long amount of time it took.

His paws no longer felt sore as he gazed down at his kits proudly. He was now free to love them with no boundaries, no rules, and with the same mate, only in a different form. The kits could now have a proper, loving mother, and he trusted Millie on that, for her personality was much like Silverstream's, he recalled. Now that her memory was restored, she respected that and the Clans too.

"What will you name them?" he asked.

Millie flicked him affectionately with the tip of her tail. "Silly, in Twolegplace, the father names the kits!"

He halted from his swooning. "Wait, what? _I_ have to name them?" What if he named them something really bad and ruined their lives? What if—

"Graystripe, relax," Millie mewed. "You'll do good, I trust you." The adoring words sent his mind thinking, and he looked down at both kits. One was a fluffy gray tom with a banded, bushy tail. The other was pale silver-and-white, like frost crystals.

"The tom's name is Slatekit," he began in a wheeze, thinking back to the slate stones he had liked to play with when he was young. Yes! That was it; he should follow that naming pattern! "And the she-kit is Swankit," he finished, recalling the pretty white feathers he had liked to stick in his nest just before night.

"Beautiful names, so unique, yet lovely all the same," Millie praised, smiling warmly at him. His heart felt melted, and he leaned down to touch his nose to each of his little kits.

"They're- they're amazing," he gasped, lost for words. His happiness exploded in his mind, and he faltered slightly, but Millie's encouraging smile led him on. "You're right, this-this was the best future for both of us."

They exchanged a meaningful look, one that the medicine cat, medicine cat apprentice, and other queens in the den would never know how significant it was.


End file.
